


the mixtape

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Idiots in Love, M/M, Music, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-24 23:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19734226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: “I made you a mixtape,” Hermann says as he stands awkwardly by Newt’s desk.Hermann had just marched over and cleared his throat about four times, until he was certain Newt was looking, before speaking. When Newt looks up, he pulls out his headphones dramatically to signal the fact that he was, in fact, in the middle of something. That suddenly seems unimportant when he sees the look on Hermann’s face, the more than a hint of blush on his cheeks that spreads to the tips of his ears. Newt wants to kiss those ears.





	the mixtape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [businesscasual_pseudopod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/businesscasual_pseudopod/gifts).



> For the wonderful Will. This feels like the first thing I've written in ages that doesn't need about 20 notes in advance <3

“I made you a mixtape,” Hermann says as he stands awkwardly by Newt’s desk.

Hermann had just marched over and cleared his throat about four times, until he was certain Newt was looking, before speaking. When Newt looks up, he pulls out his headphones dramatically to signal the fact that he was, in fact, in the middle of something. That suddenly seems unimportant when he sees the look on Hermann’s face, the more than a hint of blush on his cheeks that spreads to the tips of his ears. Newt wants to kiss those ears.

“A mix tape?” Newt asks, not fully processing what Hermann’s saying.

There had been a CD laying on Newt’s desk when he arrived at work that morning, but he didn’t think much of it. Their computer systems as a whole ranged from state of the art tech to outdated junk that Newt had found and they both scrapped together. Newt didn’t think anything of seeing a CD on his desk, even though the average person hadn’t seen a CD since 2015. They’re obsolete, old fashioned, even in a near apocalypse there are still MP3s and music streaming. 

“Yes, a CD. I put it on your desk, but I’m worried you’ve now discarded it.” Hermann’s free hand, the one not currently white knuckling his cane, is going through the full spectrum of his nervous ticks. (Clenching into a fist, rubbing his fingers together, the hesitation when he has to prevent himself from shaking his hands.)

“Oh-kay?” Newt says. The CD is safely in his desk drawer, so there’s no worries there.

Honestly, Newt’s a bit jarred that Hermann’s talking to him at all. The past two days he’s been silent in the lab, ever since the night they’d abruptly started making out against Hermann’s chalkboard. Only, the making out had turned into a little bit more and then Hermann had stuck his hand down Newt’s pants and expected nothing in return. And then Newt had gotten on his knees in return, because it seemed like the right thing to do. (And the thing Newt wanted to do most in the world.)

But afterwards Newt had made some crass comments about how he should have known Hermann was the type to go right for the hand in the pants and Hermann had gotten really quiet. In short, Newt had fucked up by letting his mouth say words before his brain could think the better of it.

“I realize this is rather juvenile, but I didn’t know how else to communicate with you,” Hermann begins to explain.

“Are you calling me juvenile?” Newt leans back and crosses his arms. It wouldn’t be the first time or, he suspects, the last.

“No! That’s not my intention. I simply...have things I would like to say that I feel you would understand better in music.”

“This isn’t some like Tchaikovsky or something, right?”

Hermann levels a glare at him and turns to stomp away rather dramatically.

Newt spends the rest of his day at work wondering what sort of music Hermann could possibly put on a mixtape for him. He’s not sure what sort of message could be conveyed by a Sigur Ros song that sounds like whale sounds gone wrong or three different yet nearly identical versions of Moonlight Sonata. Maybe the message is “get the fuck out of my lab and my life” or “I don’t ever want to stick my hand down your pants again.” It has been two days without Hermann even looking at Newt like he might want to kiss him again, so he can assume at least the second is true. But why would he take this time to choose songs to convey that concept?

It’s not until he’s safely back in his room that he can listen, suddenly grateful his laptop is a relic of a long gone era where laptops had the capacity to play CDs. (Suddenly grateful he was the sort of person who kept a laptop at all, really.) He puts the CD in and situates himself comfortably on his bed, ready to dig into the listening and look for some greater meaning. None of the songs show with title names and Newt’s not sure if this is deliberate or Hermann simply no longer understanding this technology. Hermann’s a tech whiz, though, and surely he’d know how to name tracks on a CD.

About three seconds into “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want”, Newt realizes he’s being an idiot and bolts up in bed completely. Since the dawn of time, decent human beings have been giving people random mixtapes to do one thing and one thing alone. (Alright, there’s exceptions like road trips or that one girl who sent him a song to break up, but that doesn’t really count.)

Newt’s playing the fantasy in his head where he and Hermann save the world by doing something really cool and then buy a house and buy two ferrets and a lizard and maybe some rats. He’s so wrapped up in this fantasy, he nearly forgets his shoes as he rushes out the door back to the lab. Ten minutes ago, Hermann was still there working at his chalkboard, so Newt hopes he’s not gone back to his room already.

“Hermann,” Newt exclaims when he enters the room. “I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, and?” Hermann answers, turning around to face him.

“When you said you made me-” Newt begins, breathless. “I should have just- I should have told you I feel the same.” He strides over to Hermann, attempting to look suave and cool but mostly feeling sweaty.

“And?” Hermann continues.

“And,” Newt says, taking Hermann’s face in his hands. “I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s alright.”

Ever determined to get the last word in, it’s Hermann who closes the gap and initiates the kiss. Newt finds he doesn’t mind at all, though, and lets himself dissolve into it, lets himself melt into the radiant feeling of reciprocal feelings for someone. Maybe Hermann wants to adopt five rats named after Star Trek characters too. He can hope so. When he pulls away, Hermann’s smiling at him, one of those broad smiles that crinkles the corner of his eyes.

“You can put your hands down my pants any time,” Newt says. “Romantically.”

Hermann kisses him again, possibly because he can’t resist, also possibly to keep him from putting his foot in his mouth any further. Either way, Newt can’t complain.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on twitter @ newtguzzler and tumblr @ pendragoff


End file.
